


You're Lucky, Lucky, You're So Lucky!

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, M/M, Mpreg, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-27
Updated: 2007-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for mpreg_slash@livejournal.com.</p>
    </blockquote>





	You're Lucky, Lucky, You're So Lucky!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for mpreg_slash@livejournal.com.

Christine Heigelmann adjusted the strap of her backpack and tapped on the brightly decorated door to Apartment 5A, smiling a little as the sound of a very loud, very high-pitched voice came from within the household. She raised her fist, about to knock again, when the door swung open and harassed-looking Pete Wentz stood there in a rumpled tuxedo, a baby girl actually standing on his foot, clinging to the trouser-leg and yelling up at him incoherently. The baby was dressed in a bright-yellow onesie, ready for bed. She swiveled her head around to squint up at Christine, dark curls flying and she babbled in a loud greeting, waving one pudgy hand at the sitter and grinning as Christine waved back. _She's getting so big_ , Christine marveled, looking down at the little girl as she staggered off her father's leg, from where she was hitching a ride. Christine hadn't seen her in a few months, but the baby seemed just as perky as she ever had been.

"Hey." Pete grinned wearily at her, reaching down to catch the baby before she could totter out the door. She was a quick little thing. "Thanks for coming on such short notice."

"That's okay, Pete," Christine smiled shyly, remembering how long it took for her to call him _Pete_ and not _Mr. Wentz_. As a matter of fact, she was still stuck on _Mr. Stump_ , and figured it would take her another couple of weeks to break into using the name _Patrick_.

She came inside the hallway, putting up her sweater and backpack in the closet and followed Pete back into the living room, where a large Christmas tree still reigned over the tall-ceilinged area, pushed close to the massive windows. The lights of the city twinkled in tandem with the small multi-coloured lights nestled in the pine branches. A bulldog lay dozing near the tree, small bits of wrapping paper still dotting the carpet; the dog snuffled, the puffy reindeer antlers on its head shaking with its snores.

"Hey, Lucky, Merry Christmas," Christine said as Pete handed her the chubby child and dashed off to his room to see what Mr. Stump (Patrick!) was up to. Lucky wrinkled her little nose and laughed her loud, hoarse, baby laugh, hugging Christine tightly around her neck. Lucky Wentz was a cheerful baby, most of the time. She had Pete Wentz's eyes and hair (when he wasn't straightening it to a crisp) and Patrick Stump's mouth and temperament, and only a handful of people in the world knew how this was so.

 _Christine_ knew, and she wondered if Pete and Patrick knew that _she_ knew, but she wasn't going to tell a soul. Not ever.

"Hey, Christine," Mr. Stump--Patrick-- said as he was pulled out of the bedroom by Pete, most of his face still in that worried mode it got when he knew he had to go do some show or interview and leave the baby. His eyes were shining, though, and his mouth was red, as if he had been kissed thoroughly; from the self-satisfied look on Pete's face, that is exactly what had happened, and Christine wanted to blush for his sake. "We haven't called you in such a long time but, seriously, this was a last-minute thing, we'll pay you double if it’s any--"

"It's okay, Mr. Stump--"

"Patrick." His eyes were warm and kind, even underneath the fretting and Christine ducked her head.

"Right, Patrick. Um... it's no problem, really, I'd be glad to baby-sit Lucky any day. She's a good girl."

"Yeah, she is." He held out his arms, coming closer and Lucky nearly leaped out of Christine's grasp to get to her father. He held her close, tickling her chin and smiling as Pete wrapped his arms around both of them, resting his forehead against Patrick's. "Hey, Lucky."

"Dada," Lucky said and giggled as both Pete and Patrick kissed her, before handing her back to Christine.

"So you remember where everything is, right, Christine?"

"Sure, Pete. Fruits as snacks and they're in the kitchen, diapers in the bottom left-hand drawer in Lucky's bedroom, no treats for Hemmy after nine."

"And you have our cell phone numbers, right? They're still the same."

"Yes, Mr.---Patrick."

"Anything at all, you call us. Anything. Oh, shit, we're going to be late." Pete hooked a protesting Patrick once more by the arm, grabbing keys and wallets and barreling out the door with hurried waves and blown kisses, Christine waving Lucky's chubby left arm until the door slammed and poor old Hemmy jumped out of his sleep.

"Oh, goodness me, finally," Christine said and released the baby... who hovered in the air quite contentedly as Christine shook herself like a dog after a bath; Hemmy gave this activity a bored look, having seen it a few times before. When Christine was finished, she looked nothing like a teenaged human babysitter. Instead, she had taken back her true _djinn_ form, smoke and lights and tiny thunderous sounds. Lucky chortled and Hemmy put his face under his paws, going back to sleep. "Now! Let's see if these humans are still doing a good job as the Chosen One's parents."

The Chosen One stuck her thumb in her mouth and drooled.

The _djinn_ gathered the baby gently from where she was suspended in air, floating around the living room, looking closely at the pictures suspended on the walls.

"Ahhh, here are your fathers and your uncles, Lucky. This was when they still had the band full-time, right? Nice. The stars were happy that these two met. Oh, here is where your father found me." A curl of smoke reached out and snagged a photograph of Pete holding up a dusty lamp, old and faded. There was a manicured lawn behind them, the scene of a yard sale, old ladies in plaid pedal-pushers puttering about the place. The expression on Pete's face was one of mischievous delight, holding the lamp aloft, as Patrick, Joe and Andy looked very long-suffering. However, Patrick's arm was slung around Pete's shoulders, and they were standing very, very close. The smoke put the photo back into place and picked up another.

"And look, this must have been after your father made that wish and he didn't know I was there! 'I wish I could be a father.' Well. He didn't say _how_ , did he? I had to work with what I had!" The _djinn_ laughed and Lucky joined in; Hemmy stood up and trotted out of the living room with dignity, in search of somewhere quiet to sleep. In the black and white picture, Patrick looked a little plumper than usual and he was lying on his side in a bed, white sheets bunching under his curled form. He seemed to be fast asleep, long lashes brushing against a ring of tired shadows underneath his eyelids. He had one hand tucked between the pillow and his cheek and the other hand hugging his stomach protectively; someone else, their skin darker in tone, had one of _their_ hands on Patrick's belly, right next to his splayed, pale fingers.

"Poor Mr. Stump, how he suffered. I remember him screaming at Pete, "I'll never sleep with you again!" So very clandestine, and so many friends sworn to secrecy. But you were worth it, wouldn't you say? You are meant for greatness and these two are perfect to show the ways of humans. One with great imagination and one with great heart. Yes, they're perfect. Oh yes, they are!" The _djinn_ descended into shameless baby-babble, tickling the baby and Lucky laughed so hard she made an indelicate baby fart. Hemmy whined in mortification from the kitchen and slunk off to find elusive peace in the back bedroom.

The _djinn_ paused in front of another photo, a large one in a big pastel-shaded room with many people squeezing in for the shot. Pete sat in a high-backed chair, holding a tiny bundle in his arms and looking as if he wanted to burst into tears and shout with laughter all at the same time. Patrick was sitting in a chair beside him, dressed in a large shirt and loose trousers, smiling wanly at Pete even as Pete gazed down at the little tufts of dark hair escaping from the multi-coloured blanket. Andy and Joe appeared as if they were struggling for space nearest the baby, while Pete and Patrick's family grinned mightily around them. A white-cloaked doctor was standing off to one side, looking as if he was close to fainting. Underneath the photo, a strip had words written on it in a careful hand: _Lucasta Stump-Wentz and Family. November 13, 2012._

The _djinn_ hummed in approval and then paused before reaching for some glossy photographs that had been obviously printed only a few hours ago, for unlike the others they were without frames; in them, Lucky was dressed in the same yellow onesie, ripping into presents while Pete or Patrick tried to help her. There was even a shot with all three of them, the image slightly tilted, but not enough to obscure the miniature guitar clutched in Lucky's hands as she sported a small box on her head; Lucky was the only one staring at the camera in this photo, as Pete kissed Patrick deeply and held their daughter securely in his lap.

"Perfect." Here, the _djinn_ held Lucky up in the air, dancing her around playfully as the baby laughed in delight. "Ah, you will be voice and heart and love. One day, you will help the whole world, did you know that? Our Lucky. Let's have you cleaned, little Chosen One."

After a diaper change, the _djinn_ settled them all into the TV room, coaxing Hemmy to come sit with them. The television was switched on and Lucky clapped her hands sleepily as Pete's face came on-screen, grinning at the screaming crowds.

"Merry Christmas, Chicago!" He yelled and the answering noise was astounding. The _djinn_ regained her human form, sitting comfortably with the baby in her lap.

"Dadeeee," Lucky said softly as the camera panned out to reveal the entire band, Andy sitting under the huge sparkling letters spelling out _FALL OUT BOY: YULE SHOOT UR EYE OUT SPECIAL_ ; Joe was standing on the drum-riser, motioning to the the crowd with his _hey come on_ hand signals. Patrick was at the center microphone, his smile mysterious as he bent his head so that his eyes were hidden by his hat. "Dadddeee," she repeated, even more quietly and Patrick looked up, smiling right into the camera.

"Merry Christmas to all our families," Pete's voice was booming as Patrick began to pluck notes and Andy sent a shivering sound over the cymbals. Joe's fancy finger work joined right in. "Merry Christmas to our daughter, Lucky. We love you, sweetie. This next song isn't one of ours, but it's just for you." He gave Patrick a sly glance. "It's for us."

An excitable vee-jay came on-screen almost immediately, giving annoying amounts of information over the start of the song about Pete and Patrick's 'adopted' daughter, how she was a little over one year old and really just the luckiest, craziest baby to have them as parents and family.

"Hmph. Adopted. Shows what they know. And, you're lucky because they love you," Christine the _djinn_ whispered to her charge. "Chosen One or not, that's the best in the whole world."

Patrick's voice was wonderful as he sang.

 

 _When I woke up tonight  
I said I'm gonna make somebody love me  
I’m gonna make somebody love me  
And now I know, now I know, now I know  
I know that it's you  
You’re lucky, lucky, you're so lucky!_

 ****

fin

**Author's Note:**

> Song from Franz Ferdinand, 'Do You Wanna'?


End file.
